


reprise (lake-foam green)

by Amaryllis_Lu



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:57:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaryllis_Lu/pseuds/Amaryllis_Lu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're in this together. I'm ready to breathe, Pacifica." / Shameless speculative future fic. Dipcifica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reprise (lake-foam green)

Summer's a full swinger - July brings with it a passion unsung. As the sun burns high, you feel dangerously low, different than before, and scan the carnival quickly. Everything seems to be in order. None of the rides are broken, suspicious activity is a firm negative, and everybody is joking or laughing or a joyous mixture of both. Unlike you. But in Gravity Falls, nothing is ever as it seems.

"How many times have you been on the Ferris Wheel, Dipper?"

A casually formulated question deserves a supplementary answer. You talk about your childhood again, before everything went wrong, and how you and Mabel rode the attractions at these events into the ground. Talking about your sister has become easier, although it still makes you wonder _what went wrong-_

She clarifies 'in this town,' and you change your answer to 'just once.' Summer didn't last long enough. Neither did trust.

"Well, let's ride it now. Seize the day. Reclaim a little bit of childhood, you know?"

You stare at the nonexistent second head. Is this really the same snobby Northwest girl you knew all those years ago, with the family no longer home?

When this question is phrased aloud, she giggles and hands out a quick peck, at no expense besides both sets of pale cheeks.  
"Not anymore. And look, we're already at the front."

How does she do it? You don't have an answer when you hand the attendant a ticket, and you don't have one during the ride up. And when the car stops at the top, things get even stranger. She starts weaving a strange story about her own youth, about looking proper for uncaring parents, and sitting in the old metal to feel on top of the world, when you decide to produce another response (the wheel is exceptionally slow today), this time against your intuition. _Don't do it,_ whispers your head. _Faith? Turmoil. TRUST^NO^ONE-_

You speak the truth. Everything. Magic and monsters. Promises and betrayals. Madness, portals, demons, and twins forever lost to darker forces. She cries momentarily, because you never told her any of this. She wants to be there; wants to help so as to return a favor provided long ago and many times over.

"You have so many secrets," tears drying, she chokes out. You feel like you're spilling your guts on the floor.

Bill would appreciate the wording, most certainly. But that bridge is burned.

You laugh, because your adventures never truly end. It's a cycle from resurrection to reassurance in romance. Who started it? Stanford, Stanley, yourself, or a new, undiscovered stranger? "Well, one thing is certain," your older voice declares. Tears ceased, she blinks to find her hands clasped in yours. Through the countless adventures, this one is by far the most exhilarating.

"We're in this together. I'm ready to breathe, Pacifica."

The returning smile is sanctuary. You lean in and give her a kiss on the lips, simple as that, because you two are a team now. One step at a time, it's still a new start. The ring she wears proudly proves it.

"Just the two of us," muses Pacifica Pines, "taking on the world…I love you."

They are the last ones to ride, they realize when they exit. And finally, the links in the most dastardly of chains that bind begin to come unhinged.


End file.
